


The Bonds Between Us

by charmandhex



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Domestic Fluff, Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Spoilers for Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmandhex/pseuds/charmandhex
Summary: A series of snippets on the bonds between different characters.(Each chapter will have an explanation as to who the focus is; tags will be updated as needed and chapters will hopefully be at least somewhat close to chronological)





	1. Sculpture of Flame

**Author's Note:**

> I do not consent to having my work hosted on any unofficial apps, particularly those with ad revenue or subscription services.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a Stolen Century oneshot of Lup and Barry, from Barry's point of view, before Legato. Lup and Barry go after the Light of Creation on their own and run into a fight. Both of them end up totally fine.

            Even just the two of them, just Barry and Lup, they would have been able to handle the gnolls easily. The locals warned them about that, and Barry and Lup had known what to expect there. Barry and Lup had not, however, been prepared for a manticore. Or a Minotaur. Or a Banshee. And yet they’re faced with all three, and a band of gnolls besides, all drawn in by the Light of Creation to this foggy, cold clearing in a dark and gloomy forest that looks like the sort of place a lich would have their creepy keep.

            Creepy, even if, after the fight, assuming they survive, Barry would love to investigate the bioluminescent moss, glowing like the Light of Creation Lup has tucked under one arm, growing on some of the trees and the creepy little flying squirrels peeping around it with bright white eyes like the moon. He is a scientist after all.

            Barry is slammed back into the fight, literally, as the tail of the manticore slams into him (jeans don’t really do much for his armor class, but even his actual armor could only blunt the worst of that). The breath thoroughly knocked from his chest, Barry seems to fly backward through the air, peculiarly weightless for the moment, before crashing and barely missing the Banshee.

            As it is, Barry is barely able to scramble up to standing, wand at the ready as the horrifying figure drifts toward him, white hair eerily floating in her wake as if she moves through water. Barry’s wand shakes in his hand, which starts to lower.

            There’s an awful rattling sound as the Banshee begins to inhale, preparing to unleash that bone-chilling wail, and Barry prepares to next see Lup, seemingly moments later, not staring across the clearing with a horrified look on her face, but on board the Starblaster once more. Maybe they’ll get it right next time, maybe next time he’ll tell her…

            “Barry!” Lup yells, voice filled with desperate rage and… and?

            And then fire. Flicker becomes inferno, which spirals outward from Lup like a flower in bloom, petals of flame rushing across the space. And then the fire parts around Barry, dancing by him in whorls of blinding orange and red, as graceful as the wizard herself. The Banshee’s cry is stifled as it inhales ash and flame instead of air. And for a moment, there is only fire, surrounding and protecting him.

            The light dims, and the fire recedes. Barry blinks in astonishment, automatically reaching up to adjust his glasses as he looks around. The powerful, so incredibly powerful, burst of fire took out not just the Banshee, but Banshee, manticore, Minotaur, and gnolls alike. Barry is the only thing untouched, the small circle of purplish green grass he stands on the only oasis in the massive scorched circle. It’s silent for a moment, before the flying squirrels in their more distant glowing trees, start up their squeaks and trills again.

            Barry turns back slowly, to see Lup’s face, struck with fear and brilliantly lit by the Light of Creation she still holds, the Light of Creation they’ve won. He starts to speak. “Lu-“

            “Barry!” And Lup is running, at the last moment dropping the Light of Creation, so close that it rolls from ashy ground to the dark grass. And then she throws her arms around Barry, so tight that it’s nearly painful after the manticore’s strike. He cautiously winds his own arms around her anyway. She’s practically vibrating, and, this close, Barry can feel her heart beating a frantic rhythm.

            “Lup, that was… that was amazing. Thank you.” He marvels.

            Lup laughs, a little shakily at first, before drawing back. “Hell yeah, it was, Barold. And you’re welcome. Never been so glad to say nerd alert before, nerd.”

            “You got me there.” Barry says, and then hesitates. And then he extends his hand out to her.

            “Yeah, I do. Let’s go home,” Lup says, and if there’s a watery note to her voice, well, Barry certainly isn’t going to say anything as she scoops up the Light of Creation and drops it into her bag before taking Barry’s offered hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	2. Late Night Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Stolen Century pre-Legato Blupjeans pining! Lup finds Barry up at absurd hours doing research. Content note for food mention.

            Lup tiptoes past her brother’s sleeping form- not because there’s a risk she could wake him simply walking by, given that Taako sleeps like the dead, but because their shared space looks like someone, probably Lup, set off Whirlwind in it. The floor is most assuredly difficult terrain, and Lup is determined to avoid falling on her ass, if only so Taako doesn’t wake up specifically to laugh at her.

            Lup opens the door onto the dim hallway, lit only by the green glow of the emergency lights every five feet. Here she moves more quickly, but just as noiselessly, an old habit from childhood. They’ve got some amazing gruyere, and a grilled cheese sandwich is calling Lup’s name even now at fuck o’clock when everyone else is asleep.

            Or at least, when everyone else _should_ be asleep.

            Lup pauses as she steps into a small patch of light, spreading out from the bottom of the door to the lab. Barry.

            Lup swallows, hard, and her stomach seems to do a little flip. She and Barry are definitely the only two awake on the ship right now. But Lup was certainly asleep not long before, everything from her sleep-mussed hair to her bare feet a testament to that fact. And she has been since they’d all officially turned in some hours before. Though it seems Barry had gotten sidetracked on the way back to his own room.

            Which means, by any reasonable and in no way biased assessment, that Lup should do something about that. She’d do it for any one of her crew, the family she loves so dearly! Lup would go to any lengths; definitely steal Lucretia’s pens, harass Merle out of the sick bay, levitate a whining Magnus, stare down Davenport, or drape herself on Taako, all to get them to go to sleep. But this is Barry.

            And, uh, Lup has recently (okay, maybe not so recently, ten years at the most) realized that the love she feels vis a vis Barry... is more like _in love_ with Barry.

            She’s not afraid! Her feet remain where they are as though affixed to the floor. She can’t make out the color polish Magnus last painted her toenails, but she notes three have started to chip.

            Okay, Lup might be nervous. Just maybe. Just a... a smidgeon. Less than a teaspoon. But she’s not... the only person she’s even talked to about her plane-sized crush is Taako. Her brother had of course been supportive, but there’s a big difference between talking to someone who has been your heart since birth and talking to someone to whom you’d given your heart long before you’d even realized.

            The clock strikes, another hour of sleep Barold hasn’t gotten. At that Lup’s mouth, purses into a bow of hesitation, sets. She squares her shoulders.

            And then Lup enters the lab.

            The bright light hits her, specifically hits her in the pupils. Lup nearly doubles over swearing.

            “Lup?” Barry’s voice calls, a mix of concerned, shocked, and sleepy.

            Great. Another great impression on him.

            Granted, Barry’s known Lup for decades now, so they’re well past first, second, and forty-seventh impressions.

            “Barry!” Lup straightens up immediately, striving for casual. “Hey... what’s my favorite nerd up to?”

            Even as Lup instantly overanalyzes her greeting, she looks over Barry, half feigned nonchalance, half critically, entirely lovingly. Barry Bluejeans is, of course, wearing the ever practical, seemingly immortal blue jeans, along with an old university shirt and practical safety shoes. His hair may generously be called a mess, and his soft face is sporting a few days’ worth of stubble that Lup is tempted to run her hands over. Barry’s eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but he has a whole caravan worth of bags under those eyes. And these bags are thrown into stark relief by the Light of Creation, the source of light that had seemed to sear Lup’s eyeballs. His body is turned toward her, and Lup can see that he’s looking at her much in the same way she’s looking at him.

            Good thing Lup always looks good, even only mostly awake and in an oversized t shirt and booty shorts.

            “I, uh, I... Lup... you aren’t wearing closed toed shoes in the lab.” Barry points, and Lup rolls up onto the balls of her feet before dropping back down.

            “Barold. I’m pretty sure we left OSHA violations behind at least a dozen cycles ago.” Lup strikes a more impressive pose, defiant in the face of environmental health and safety. “Besides,” she continues, looking to Barry, “I’m pretty sure you’re not one to talk. Don’t we have rules about how many hours of the day you can be in the lab? Hm, Barold?”       And Lup knows she’s got him from the way he turns red.

            “Well...” Barry glances away from her to his notes and then back again. “I started just analyzing some of the, uh, the energy signatures from the Light and attempting to plot them out comparing to light waveforms, but then I kept going, and I found- Lup.” Barry squeaks out the last word, surprised, and it’s then that Lup finds that she’s walked over to Barry, her curiosity immediately spurred by the mention of Barry’s experiments with the Light. She doesn’t step back though, instead looking over Barry’s work, both the incomplete plots magically projected into three dimensions and the scribbled equations on half-crumpled graph paper.

            “Oh, Barry, this is... moving in four dimensions because we know it just moves from plane to plane seemingly instantaneously... and you’re incorporating Lara’s equations on emittance properties of magic, that’s brilliant... and your own papers on bond dynamics...” Lup continues mumbling to herself, in awe once again over Barry’s scientific work. “It’s... Barry, this is no-shit _beautiful_.”

            “Yeah... beautiful,” Barry agrees, almost dreamily, as if he’s as wrapped up in the science as Lup is. But then he makes a noise like a strangled goose, and Lup’s attention snaps from the work to Barry in alarm. He’s turned red again, but that could be caused by anything from light teasing to indignation over terrible scientific practices.

            “Barry... babe, you okay?” Lup asks, concern dancing along her voice like a flickering candle flame.

            “Yeah! Yeah, fine. Fine. Just fine.” Barry coughs. “I’m fine.”

            “Okay. Pretty sure I got that you’re fine.” Lup smiles at Barry. He reaches up a hand to scratch at his face, apparently self-conscious, but he smiles back, a soft, gentle thing that’s somehow brighter than the Light. Lup’s stomach does a bigger flip this time. “But. Uh. It’s late. And you... you should definitely be asleep. Humans deffo need that shit.”

            “Okay, now, Lup, I get that, but...” Barry gestures to his work, a pleading look on his face. And it takes a lot for Lup not to give in and spend the rest of the night getting just as caught up in research as Barry. With Barry.

            “Nope!” Lup says, shaking her head, the movement causing messy locks to brush against her cheeks. “Sleep time. Look at the clock. Everyone should be asleep right now, including you, dear Barold.”

            At that Barry tilts his head to the side, questioning. “Wait... Lup, why are _you_ awake?”

            Oops. Lup shuffles her feet. The floor of the lab is really cold, even for someone perpetually running hot. “I... woke up and wanted grilled cheese.” She admits.

            Barry lights up at that. Lup scrunches her nose and flicks her ears. “Only if it will get you out of the lab. And then you go to sleep.” She warns.

            “For you and grilled cheese? Absolutely.”

            Lup pauses, considering the bargain she’s struck. And then she extends a hand. Barry takes it, and she tugs him up to standing.

            Barry’s hand is warm in hers, and Lup doesn’t let go as Barry flicks off the lab lights. She doesn’t let go as they awkwardly, laughingly, holding hands, go through the door. She doesn’t let go as they walk down the hall into the kitchen.

            But then. Neither does Barry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first eleven now are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	3. What is Left Unsaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Julia, with brief snapshots from Magnus's point of view from when he met Julia and onward. Inspired by the prompt, "Things you didn't say at all." Content includes discussion of Julia's death and Magnus's grief. Technically a happy ending, but I would not call this a happy ficlet.

            The first time Magnus met Julia, he didn’t say anything at all. Steven had been giving him a brief tour of Hammer and Tongs and its living areas when Julia had walked in, spilling golden light over the threshold as she opened the door. Her hair had been messy from work and her skin marked with specks of soot, but she’d been smiling. To Magnus, she had been more brilliant than the setting sun behind her setting Julia aglow.

            “Oh! You must be the new apprentice? Magnus, right?” Julia’s eyes had briefly flicked over to her father, who’d confirmed with a quick nod. At that, she’d extended her hand out to Magnus, who, mind suddenly rushing to catch up, had slowly reached out to take it in greeting.

            It wasn’t until several hours later that he realized he’d forgotten to say anything.

 

* * *

 

            Strictly speaking, neither Magnus nor Julia proposed to the other. It had been a bright afternoon after the last battle, nothing of the violence and loss hidden from the sharp, implacable rays of the sun high above in the cheerfully blue sky. As the realization, that they were done, that the fighting was over, crept in, just as the shadows crept longer as the day inched onward, Magnus and Julia simply looked to each other for a long while.

            “It’s over.” Julia had said.

            “It’s over.” Magnus had agreed.

            “We won.”

            Celebrations began even as losses were mourned, and Magnus and Julia departed hand in hand.

 

* * *

 

            At their wedding, Julia and Magnus were shielded from the noon sun overhead by the gazebo that Magnus built. It was just as well, because their happiness, and the happiness of the family and friends surrounding them, was blinding enough on its own.

            They did say their vows, vows they had carefully written themselves, words chosen as methodically as hammer or tongs in the creation of something new and strong and beautiful. They didn’t say until death do they part, because, as Magnus said, how could death truly part them?

 

* * *

 

            On the morning Magnus was set to leave for the Continental Craftsmen Showcase, he and Julia said so much. Julia’s teasing drifted lightly through the air like the delicate lavender scent of the carefully crafted chair, while Magnus’s ensuing laugher filled the room along with the soft rays of morning. They traded reminders, Julia confirming Magnus packed everything he needed and knew where he was going, Magnus laughingly telling Julia to make sure Steven wouldn’t throw out his back (and Steven’s even more booming laugh seemed to fill all Raven’s Roost for a moment). They traded well wishes, the small family happy as they had been for the three months prior. And Magnus shook hands with Steven. He embraced and kissed Julia. His final words to her were, “I love you, Jules.”

            It was a seemingly ordinary day within their now extraordinary lives, and so one thing went unsaid. With the danger past and the future bright, they never thought they would need to say it.

            Magnus and Julia didn’t say goodbye.

 

* * *

 

            Nine months later, even late with the setting sun, like the first time Magnus had seen Julia, two words went unsaid. They remained unspoken still in the years, on all the anniversaries to come, as the two had been separated by the veil between life and death, the wall between planes.

 

* * *

 

            As the years passed, there were no late night conversations between Magnus and Julia. No quips about becoming an old man as Magnus rolled over to get comfortable for the tenth time. No slowly graying hair spread across pillows and illuminated by moonlight as the two faced each other and talked the whole night through, having never run out of things to say. No wrinkles crinkling up in laughter and softened under starlight as the night drew on.

 

* * *

 

            At the end of a long day within a long life, goodbyes are said, and it’s time to depart. The once firm barrier between prime material and astral fades, and, guided by Kravitz, Magnus passes through.

            It’s dawn, the first fingers of light stretching across a small island in a vast sea. Dogs (and one goldfish in a glass ball) play across the grass, and Magnus greets Johann. In a few moments, Julia, already hard at work, appears from behind a cottage, holding ladder and hammer and nails.

            And for a moment Magnus simply stares, taking in the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, more brilliant than any sun, all of the suns, he’s ever seen.

            Julia speaks first.

            “You lived so much longer than I thought you were going to!”

            “I know. I’m sorry I made you wait.”

            As with the first time he saw her, Magnus forgets to say hello. But then, he doesn’t need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	4. Cooking Quiche Lorraine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Ren! This one narratively follows Ren from seeing Taako's shows to settling in Refuge.

            Ren is running late.

            This is very unusual for the Drow, and it would normally be only a minor worry, given the infrequency of the occurrence. But Ren has somewhere to be, somewhere very important to be, and so she is in a full on sprint, braids whipping behind her, running clear across the Underdark. Her rapid footfalls are near noiseless against the cobblestone path, cast in bright rainbows by the neon streetlamps she’s flying by. Her ears are strained as she listens intently for any sign. Any sign at all that the show has started.

            Nothing yet.

            As Ren rounds the last corner, a wall of sound, of applause and uproarious cheering hits her head on. Even then, she barely slows as she runs down the aisle, not watching as the assistant finishes hyping up the main act. Row D, Row D, there! Now to find her seat.

            Not there, not there,  _there_! Ren clambers over people, apologies and pardons dropping from her mouth as fast as her feet move. But she makes it, and she drops into her seat, and she looks up, and-

            There’s Taako.

            “Hail and well met, Underdark!”

            Ren is actually here! She is quite literally bouncing with excitement as she, along with the rest of the people here, call out a greeting to Taako.

            “Welcome to Sizzle It Up with Taako! If you haven’t figured it out, I’m your baller wizard chef host -trademark, trademark, trademark- Taako! And listen, tonight? We’re gonna be making quiche Lorraine! So we’re gonna start-”

            And Ren watches, eyes wide, ears high with excitement, practically vibrating as Taako slices and dices and transmutes and cooks. And at the end of it? The quiche Lorraine is one of the most delicious things she’s ever tasted, and Ren is certain that, whether it was the quiche or the show or just Taako himself, her life has been changed forever.

            She’s equally certain of this fact when, the next day, she stands in her previously half-used kitchen, hair askew and flour sprinkled across her face like freckles made of moonlight, looking down at a quiche Lorraine. It doesn’t seem to have set perfectly, and it’s certainly nowhere near as pretty as Taako’s. Hands surprisingly steady, she carefully cuts a slice of warm quiche, watching as steam rises from it. Ren takes a bite, and her eyes close as she’s thrown right back into the show and the excitement of the crowd and the pure joy she’d felt. The flavors sing and the crust is flaky and the quiche is delicious.

            Ren has always been one to plan, and suddenly a new one snaps into focus. She’ll leave. She’ll leave the Underdark. She’ll travel and learn to cook and become a stronger magic user and she’ll, she’ll open up her own place. Ren has a plan, hopes, a dream, and she gives Taako the credit for that.

            Even so. It’s Ren, and Ren alone, who, hiding under a massive sun hat and tinted glasses and what has to have been half of the sunscreen available in the Underdark, takes that first tentative, brave step out into the sunlight. And then another. And then more.

            Eilistraee bless her, but it’s… it’s beautiful out here. So new and big and open. So very open, both literally and figuratively.

            Squaring her shoulders and tilting her sun hat just a hair further back to let her see more of the world, Ren sets off to her future.

            Eventually, after travel and exploration and so much good food, Ren stumbles across a place called Refuge. Literally, stumbles, as she had of course underestimated just how tough and unforgiving the desert would be to a Drow still so new to the surface.

            “Whoa there!” A kindly voice says, and strong arms catch her, steadying her. “Easy there, Miss.”

            “Thank you,” Ren answers, feeling rather light-headed and like she’s speaking through a mouthful of cotton.

            “Let’s get you in the shade and some water in you. Perhaps some lemonade? You’re not from around here are you?” It’s not really a question.

            “Noooope,” Ren agrees, attempting to shake her head, but that renders her dizzy. Water would also seem to be a good idea. Water and rest and maybe getting out of the sun.

            The man, Jack, leads her to his home, where she meets Jack’s daughter, June. And they’re both so nice. June insists on giving her cup after cup of perfectly sweet and tart lemonade, both father and daughter listening in fascination to her story.

            “Well, now.” Jack claps his hands over his knees. “Sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure.”

            “Yes. It’s been… it’s been wonderful so far. I just need a find a place to settle now. Travel is good, but… you miss having a place to come home to.” Jack nods wisely. After a beat, June nods along with him.

            “Well, Miss Ren, you know I’m the town elder. And I happen to know a lot about this town. And recently, one of my tenants, who ran the local tavern, decided to depart for a cooler climate. Now, if you are so inclined… we could use a good chef around here.”

            Ren considers. Refuge is hot and sunny and wide, wide open, up to a blue sky. It’s also in a gulch, giving it an enclosed, safe, secure feeling, and there are mines and diamonds and a night sky like a distant cavern ceiling and the people seem so very close. Like a family.

            “Jack, if you are offering… well, I think I’ll need to invest in a bigger sun hat.”

            And she does.

            The first time Ren enters the Davy Lamp, it’s an absolute mess. Chairs and tables upended, shattered glass scattered like diamonds across every surface, ancient spills practically embedded in counter and floor alike… Ren’s eyes sparkle, two diamonds themselves set in an eager face. She’s always been up for a challenge. And she immediately has a plan even now.

            So Ren goes to work. And somewhere along the way, she gets a visitor.

            “Hello!” The most peculiarly accented voice calls, and Ren looks up to see the oldest-looking person she’s ever seen. The ancient woman is tiny, even shorter than Ren and stooped with age. Her eyes are enormous behind the thickest pair of glasses Ren has ever seen. And she’s holding a basket so full of scones that Ren wonders how the weight isn’t tipping her over. “Hello, hello, I come with scones!”

            And the woman shuffles over to the counter that Ren is determinedly scrubbing and starts heaving her basket onto the counter. After a moment of watching spellbound, Ren snaps back to herself. “Oh, let me,” she says, taking the basket and placing it on the counter.

            “Oh thank you, Ren. Such a good girl.” The woman reaches up and, standing on her toes, manages to softly pat Ren on the cheek.

            “Um. Thank you. I didn’t tell you my name though. And I don’t know who you are.”

            “Ack!” The woman waves a hand. “It is a small town. People talk. But I am Paloma, and you are Ren, and now we are acquainted. I provide prophecies for diamonds and scones for friends.” She points to the basket. “We are friends now.”

            “Yes, ma’am?”

            “Yes, Paloma!”

            Ren laughs. “Yes, Paloma.”

            Paloma leans in and, in a conspiratorial whisper, says, “Friends get prophecies for free.” Paloma reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crystal.

            “Okay?” Ren asks, bemused.

            Paloma pulls out a warhammer of all things from seemingly nowhere. And then she smashes the crystal on the countertop. Ren thinks back to where she left the dust pan. But then Paloma says, in a strange voice,

            “Trust the men in red.”

            Ren blinks. “The who?”

            Paloma shrugs, back to normal. Or normal for Paloma at least. “I do not know. Prophecies are never clear.”

            “Oh.”

            “Maybe you would like another?” Paloma fishes out another crystal. “Because you make good quiche.”

            “Oh that’s not nec-”

            Paloma smashes the crystal.

            Ren is really going to need that dustpan.

            “When the time comes. Make a cream puff.”

            That one makes even less sense. It’s hard to plan for things that make no sense, but Ren does her best. As she always does.

            The first prophecy comes true first, and with that comes saving the world. The second?

            That one comes with friendship, family, and Ren’s next adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	5. Fox in the Henhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurley and Sloane's relationship, prior to Sloane finding the Gaia Sash, from Sloane's point of view. Captain Captain Bane also shows up.

            The first time, it’s because Hurley forgot her lunch. Now, Sloane could of course have left her girlfriend to fend for herself and get lunch out, but she’s well aware of Hurley’s unfortunate tendency to get so caught up in a case (Sloane wonders if the monk gets the same look in her eye as when she’s fixing an engine or preparing to kick a boarder off their wagon) that she’ll forget to eat, let alone go and actually get food.

            And, okay, maybe the rogue is a  _little_  interested in seeing just how many wanted posters of herself are up at the precinct. Battlewagon racing might be tolerated as the fun and violent sport the wealthy citizens of Goldcliff love (to gamble on), but Sloane’s, ah,  _other_  rogue pursuits?

            Thievery is generally less tolerated, and Sloane is a master at that.

            So Sloane goes to the Goldcliff militia precinct and politely asks directions to Hurley’s desk, easily charming the secretary (what can she say, half elves just naturally have higher charisma). Hurley is reading over some paperwork, sticking her tongue out the smallest bit as she concentrates. Sloane swoops down and places the lunch on the desk and a kiss on Hurley’s cheek.

            Hurley jumps and spins around, half prepared for a Flurry of Blows. “Sloane? What are you doing here?” She exclaims before looking around quickly. “Are you out of your mind?” She asks much more quietly, jabbing a finger at the reward poster for the Raven hanging on the wall near her desk. And oh, her reward has gone up since the last time she saw it. Nice.

            “Hey, Hurls.” Sloane grins lazily at Hurley and enjoys how a tint of pink spreads across the halfling’s face. “You forgot your lunch.”

            “Sloane- but- thank you- but-” Hurley jabs her finger toward the poster again.

            “You want me to sign it?” Sloane teases, also quietly.

            Hurley just shakes her head, trying not to laugh at that. And failing. Sloane has always been good at making Hurley laugh.

            “Lieutenant? And who might this be?” Hurley straightens up at once, a serious look on her face once more, as heavy footsteps stop a few feet from the pair.

            Sloane slowly turns to see a large, stocky man, equally serious, but with lines from smiling marking his face. His badge proclaims him to be captain.

            Oh.

            “I’m Sloane, sir. My girlfriend forgot her lunch.”

            “Captain Bane. I wasn’t aware that Hurley was seeing anyone.” Sloane reaches out cautiously to take Captain Bane’s offered hand. Firm grip.

            “Personal lives are not a work related subject, sir.” Hurley rattles off near automatically.

            “At ease, Lieutenant.” Bane’s mustache twitches at that. “Sloane, I’m glad you came. That one gets too caught up in her work for her own good. Best detective in the precinct.”

            “Of course she is.” Sloane says proudly. Hurley is pink again.

            After a few more words of smalltalk (because thankfully Captain Bane is a man of few of them), Bane departs, possibly to go yell at an incompetent private, and both Sloane and Hurley relax somewhat.

            Nobody realizes.

            Which of course means that Sloane takes that as free license to stop by with more lunches or to pick Hurley up (to head for a date fixing a wagon or racing of course). She gets to know Hurley’s coworkers, gabbing with the secretary and the detectives and the officers. It’s… nice. Sloane doesn’t exactly have coworkers in her line of work to shoot the breeze with at the water cooler.

            And the lines between this and her line of work do sometimes blur. After one rookie detective manages to land a blow during one night’s escapade, they sincerely offer to track down the scumbag who hit her the next day. She gets unknowing advance warning from a sergeant eagerly telling her about a trap for the Raven. She even gets insider info on movement of certain valuables in and out and around Goldcliff.

            And then one day.

            Hurley’s meeting has gone long (even longer than they usually do). And Sloane has gotten rather bored of sitting in Hurley’s chair spinning around. Desk. Bulletin board. Other desks. Wave to the Dragonborn detective. Hallway. Wall. Hallway again. Captain Bane’s office. Desk. Repeat.

            Sloane jolts herself to a halt facing Captain Bane’s office. She is bored. And she is a rogue. And it’s not like she’s going to steal anything (for once). It’s just… a training exercise, like the one Hurley is going to be gone on for a whole week. Leaving Sloane on her own. The whole reason why Sloane is here now, to see Hurley before she goes.

            Sloane frowns, and suddenly she’s up. She’s snuck into mansions and vaults and everything in between.

            An unlocked office poses no challenge.

            Captain Bane’s office is pretty boring. No pictures. No cool knickknacks.

            Sloane checks the also unlocked desk. Everything in there is just as boring.

 _Unless_.

            Unless?

            Most people wouldn’t notice.

            Most people aren’t rogues. Even fewer are master thief rogues.

            There’s a hidden drawer in the desk.

            And now things are interesting.

            With an ear to the door and a few muttered curses, Sloane breaks the drawer open.

            And WHOA.

            Apparently Captain Lawful Good is up to something. Sloane can’t… somehow Sloane can’t even read half of this. Her head goes fuzzy as she tries. There are tallies, numbers in the thousands, next to names she can’t read. Locations of people whose names she can- Killian, Carey, Avi, Johann- none of whom are in the militia. And something- practically just a scrap of paper, a note, really. It’s a location. Not far from Goldcliff. Sloane can’t read what it’s called, but luckily Bane’s jotted down a few notes- magic, plant conjuration, weather control, extremely dangerous. Lethal even.

            Two people have gone after it and died just trying to get to where it’s apparently stuck in some underwater ruins.

            A grin spreads across Sloane’s face. Hurley  _is_  going to be gone for the week. And Sloane is up for a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	6. The Little Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is Lup and some fun sensory stuff that returned once Lup got back into her body. It deals primarily with her relationships with Taako and Barry but touches on the rest of the IPRE.

            It’s not that Lup ever took any of it for granted. The path of her life has taught and retaught Lup the value of small wonders over and over again. Freshly plated French toast, with the outside perfectly browned and crisp and the interior soft and custardy, accompanied by a generous drizzle (for Lup) or a small lake (for Taako) of warm maple syrup. Sunrises on a hundred different worlds in hundreds of different colors, the skies an infinite canvas painted in vermillion and seafoam and eggplant and midnight, distant suns gradually illuminating the world stretching out before her. Moments with all of them together, quiet moments, peaceful moments, where they could put aside the circumstances that had forged them and simply be a family. She’d been fighting for that, for both family and world, when she’d left in pursuit of the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet.

            And she had clung to those thousands of memories during those ten long years in the Umbra Staff, thousands of minute anchors to join the six adamant. They had helped to ground Lup as she waited in stasis, when even the passage of time itself seemed too distant to be real. They had fed her, warmed her, cloaked her in love and flame until that fateful moment of freedom, and the Phoenix took flight once more.

            So, no, certainly, Lup had not taken it for granted during her childhood and her studies and her impossible century.

            But it all seems to mean so much more now.

            The first time she holds a knife in her hand in her new body, it’s almost clumsy for a few moments as she carefully adjusts her grip just so. The wooden handle seems to welcome her hold, and the wood grain might be smooth enough not to notice, for one not paying attention. She lines up the onion, careful, prepared for the first cut. Chop. The sound is delightful, almost musical in Lup’s ears, twitching as the sound turns over in her mind. Of course she’s heard it thousands of times since the Day of Story and Song, as she’d insisted on being in the kitchen with Taako as he cooked (not that he’d insisted any less). But there’s something different about the way it hits her now, knowing she is responsible for it, the one in control of it. She moves again, careful still for the next. Chop. Chop. Chopchopchopchopchop. Chop. She’s giggling with delight by the time Taako turns around, an amused smile on her twin’s face.

            Laundry. It had never been Lup’s favorite chore. Specifically, the folding of it. Perfectly drawn arcane symbols were easier to come by than a well-folded fitted sheet. But now. There’s the satisfying snap of Barry’s jeans as she folds them in half. The lavender scent from their preferred brand of soap permeating the room. The friendly warmth rising from the basket of clothing Lup had impatiently dried herself. When Lup reaches into the basket for the next item of clothing, her hand brushes against Taako’s impossibly soft blue sweater. And Lup freezes. She slowly draws the article of clothing out and studies it cautiously, as though the delicate knitting might tear under the weight of her gaze. After a few breathless moments (was it surprise or forgetting to breathe again?), Lup buries her face in the sweater, humming to herself at the feeling. And Lup nearly cries when Istus presents her with an equally soft sweater of her own two days later.

            The world itself seems brighter and Lup more connected to it than perhaps she has ever been to one single place. It seems a series of small miracles, and everywhere she looks Lup finds herself adding to that list. Warm raindrops on her skin with the scent of a storm heavy in her nose and with the deck of the Wavehumper steady beneath her feet. Wind toying with and tangling the soft strands of her hair as she stands high in the pillars of Raven’s Roost. The endless rhythm of waves crashing at water’s edge only feet from Chesney’s. The endless blanket of stars still to be learned that are best visible from the moon base. The way life continues on even following death, fungi feeding on decay that Barry eagerly points out and fire-scorched lands dotted with the green of new growth that Taako reminds her of. The world… the world is a remarkable place, and Lup loves exploring it.

            And her family. Her family and friends, lively and vibrant and growing by the day. How could she ever forget them? How could she not commit even the smallest details to memory? There’s the flash of light against fresh paint on fingernails and the way Magnus sticks out his tongue just so as he concentrates, flecks of color dotting his face along with scars Lup is slowly hearing the stories behind. Sailor’s calluses once again hardening Davenport’s hands, paired with a well-known firm grip and the briny smell of the sea pungent and sharp. The warmth and joy ever present in Merle’s gaze, no matter what changes he’s seen, reliable as the earth beneath his fingernails and feet, and the certainty in himself and his life clear in his stance. New lines that make an unfamiliar map of Lucretia’s face that Lup will surely learn, paired with the familiar ink stained hands and the ecstatic laugh.

            And Barry. Barry has had her heart for so long, longer than Lup could even tell you, having fallen thoroughly in love before she’d even realized she’d slipped. There’s the warmth of his embrace, solid and soft, surrounding and supportive, and so very, very loving. There’s the way he gets so intently focused on his work, either in Reaper duties or their, ah, scientific extracurricular activities afterward, and his brows and nose scrunch up in the cutest way possible. There’s the way the music of the piano rises up around him, enveloping them both in sound and love.

            And Taako. Her heart. Always her heart, through time and space and life and loss. There’s the way trust passes between them like a river, flowing eternal and unwavering, and the gentle, almost unceremonious pop of Disguise Self being dissipated. The way she can still trace every freckle on his face in unmistakable, if slightly altered constellations, the way she can know his mind with a look in his eyes. There’s the way they move through the kitchen, fluid and meticulous as a dance, intuitive and comfortable even after a decade apart. There’s the feeling of his arms tight around her, never losing her again, matched by her arms around him, reminding him that he’s never truly alone.

            Lup really has never taken anything of her life for granted, not during a life lived on the brink of losing it all nor a decade where it seemed she had. But now, in her new body, in her new and joyously final life, well, there really is so much out there to love, each and every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	7. Takeout in the Astral Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon Taakitz from Taako's point of view. It's the post S&S vacation to the Astral Plane. Some content warning; they do discuss Kravitz drowning during the Hunger's invasion of the Astral Plane as we see it during the Suffering Game.

            Taako watches as Kravitz deftly swings his scythe, bridging time and space to open a rift to the Astral Plane. The light from the Sea of Souls washes over his boyfriend, illuminating the sharp lines of his preferred suit and the even sharper lines of his cheekbones. Kravitz turns to Taako, a soft, warm - _warm_ \- smile on his face, extending a hand, and Taako’s heart skips a beat, his breath catches in his throat. Taako reaches out and takes Kravitz’s warm - _warm_ \- hand and follows him through.

            One moment he’s standing in their kitchen in the Prime Material Plane, and then he passes through, the veil between worlds almost as soft as a sweater from Istus (but only almost). Taako sets foot on sparkling white sand, and his breath catches for a second time as he looks around. This island is far from the Eternal Stockade, which is only a black spot on the horizon, and surrounded entirely by the glowing rainbow of the Sea of Souls. Further in on the island, sand gives way to faintly ethereal grass, about three shades darker than Taako is used to, and beyond that in the center of the island is a small cottage. Kravitz turns, releasing the scythe and looking at him, waiting for his reaction.

            “So, uh, this all wasn’t an elaborate plan just to resolve that nonzero death count, was it?” Taako says, half-laughing. Kravitz blinks, incredulity painted across his face, before he laughs as well, shoulders shaking with it.

            “Decidedly no.” He snorts. It’s delightful.

            “Cool. Now. You gonna invite me in, babe?”

            “I can do you one better.” And before Taako can inquire as to what, exactly, that means, Kravitz has swept him up, one arm behind his back and one under his legs.

            “Psh. Showoff.” Taako feigns sulking a moment.

            “I could put you down?”

            “No, no. Taako’s good right here.” Taako settles in, leaning against Kravitz’s chest.

            And Taako can feel Kravitz’s laugh just as he can feel Kravitz’s heartbeat, as he strides across the island and over the threshold of the cottage.

            Some time later, Taako and Kravitz are out again for some good quality lying in the sun on the beach (even if, y’know, there’s not even one sun, let alone two). Taako is sitting, looking out over the calm waters, the gentle waves rolling into the shoreline. Not exactly an opportune sea for surfing. Taako looks over at Kravitz, who is lying down, eyes skyward.

            Taako takes a moment to just look over his boyfriend and marvel. Kravitz’s braids are tied back, gold beads glinting and peaking through the hair like the sharp eyes of birds hidden in the foliage. His dark skin is lovely, even more beautiful than usual with the contrast against the white sands. His eyes are wide and seem to sparkle with the ethereal light, and his lips, well, Taako’s always good to kiss those.

            Kravitz also seems remarkably tense for someone on his first actual beach vacation in centuries.

            “Hey, babe? Krav?” Taako asks, gently probing.

            Kravitz turns his head, some of the tension visibly leaving his face as he looks at Taako. But not all of it.

            “Yes, dove?”

            Taako’s heart flips at the nickname. “You good?”

            Kravitz seems surprised. “Yes, of course.”

            “Because you don’t  _seem_  good.” Taako pushes his weight onto his hands and rotates himself, legs still crossed, to sit facing Kravitz. And he waits.

            Eventually, Kravitz slowly sits up, before turning to mirror Taako.

            “I hadn’t really thought about it.” He says. “We’d been busy, and I… for the most part, I ignored it, you know? I didn’t have to look too closely at it, because I didn’t have to look at…” And Kravitz bobs his head to the side, toward the placid Sea of Souls. “It’s… what happened. Right before the Day of Story and Song.” And Taako immediately knows what this is about; they’ve touched on it before, and Kravitz knows that Taako saw, saw but couldn’t do anything until he opened that sapphire gate. “I’m alive now, in a way, but then? Still, still mostly dead. But just because I was dead, doesn’t mean I couldn’t drown.”

            Taako’s own throat tightens up at the thought of what Kravitz must have gone through, the sea rising in rebellion, the Hunger bearing down overhead, and Taako’s had to face that, so many times before, but he’d never faced it truly alone.

            And it had always ended for him. Kravitz had simply drowned, far longer than any living creature could survive, alternating sinking under the Hunger’s weight and fighting to rise until finally, finally, he had broken through the oily surface of the corrupted sea and found his way to the Eternal Stockade. Where he’d learned that he was even more alone than he thought.

            Taako extends a hand, offering. Kravitz takes it. Still warm. Still living.

            “I, I don’t- I’m not afraid- or maybe I am.”

            “All good either way, rabbit.” Taako reassures gently.

            Kravitz takes a steadying breath, and Taako matches him. “I couldn’t swim before. I thought, I thought, you know, maybe you could teach me, because of the story, but right now…”

            Taako squeezes his hand and thinks back to what he’d said to Barry, so many years ago, in a situation not so far from this one. “We have what so few people in love actually have enough of. We have time. All the time in the world. That one, or this.” Kravitz breaks out into a smile, relief shining in his face, and, impulsively, Taako lifts Kravitz’s hand to his mouth in a kiss. “Now, uh, Taako’s good with the whole sunbathing and emotionally charged conversation thing. Does the Astral Plane get delivery or am I going to have to get inventive?”

            “I love you, Taako.”

            “Yeah, yeah. I love you, too. So, takeout? Yay? Nay? C’mon, Krav, if I gotta conjure up a wholeass turkey, I wanna know before I’m standing in front of the oven.”

            And laughing, hand in hand, Taako and Kravitz head inside, enjoying the time they have and the vacation they’ve earned. And some really good fantasy takeout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	8. Questions and Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one features Angus and Taako and Angus's ability to accumulate parents! It occurs post Story and Song.

            Angus is rather used to it at this point. The questions, that is. People can be astonishingly nosy (even when they aren’t detectives), and the Birds are considerably more intimidating than a kid now hovering in the space between young child and gangly teenager.

            At least if you don’t know any of the Seven Birds or the boy in question.

            But people still go to Angus with the questions. He practically has a script.

            “Is Magnus as strong as the Story says?” Stronger.

            “Does Lucretia really write with both hands?” Yes, and at the same time.

            “What’s Lup like?” Fiery, fierce, wonderful.

            “How many pairs of jeans does Barry have?” More than one.

            “Is Merle seeing anyone?” Angus does not know and will not ask.

            “Where did Davenport get the money for the Wavehumper?” Battlewagon racing.

            “So Taako teaches you? Is he, like, your dad now?”

            This is, to Angus, the most awkward question, so he feels no guilt over replying with an appropriately snarky answer each time.

            “Well, no, sir, but I’m officially a part of the Taako brand. You too can get your own Taako-brand Agnes McDonald for only 420 payments of one gold.”

            “No, ma’am, he’s my eccentric uncle. He’s going to die under mysterious circumstances forcing me to solve the mystery of his death so I can inherit a large fortune.”

            “He’s my employer, sir. I’m a professor at the school. I have tenure.”

            “I’m actually a dragon, and I’m older than he is, Mx.”

            “Ma’am, he pushed me off a train, and you think he could be trusted with a child?”

            And so on.

            Because the Birds are adequately awe-inspiring and overwhelming (because most people have never seen Magnus cry over a dog or Barry eating too much cheese for science again), they don’t know about the questions for the most part, and Angus certainly isn’t going to fill them in. They’ve got enough to do, and Angus can handle it.

            For the most part.

            While out and about with Taako one day, shopping with a miles long list of spell components and groceries, someone practically bowls Angus over. While he’s reeling, the sentient wrecking ball notices who Angus is with.

            “Oh my gods, TAAKO!” A human woman shrieks, completely missing the boy she nearly demolished.

            “Uh… hail and well met.” Taako gives a casual wave, and Angus can see Taako glance down at him. “So. You good there, Agnes?”

            “Agnes?” The woman asks, nonplussed before finally registering that the object she’d collided with was a living being. “Oh! This must be your son! From the story? Bet you’re happy that an amazing wizard like Taako adopted you, aren’t you?” The woman coos at the end in an annoying high-pitched voice, pinching Angus’s cheek and knocking his glasses askew again just as he’d managed to right them. Angus gets his glasses on again just in time to see a weird look on Taako’s face. Great. Now he’ll have to deal with Taako teasing about that. Angus opens his mouth to correct her, tell her no, he’s not-

            “Adopted? What? Why would you think my son is adopted? Can’t you see the family resemblance? The Taako brand stunning good looks?” Taako slings an arm over Angus’s shoulder, grinning winningly at her.

            “Sir-”

            “Oh! I’m… I’m sorry?” The woman looks between Taako and Angus and back again, seemingly trying to do the math.

            “Of course, cause, uh, he does take after his other dad. Right now, listen, this has been lovely, but, uh… parent duty calls? Come along, Agnes, time for… parental bonding and shit. Play catch? Teach you how to tie a tie? Drag you along fishing? That’s a thing dads do, right?” Taako steers Angus off with a wave back at the woman.

            “Sir-” Angus tries again as soon as they’re out of earshot.

            “You good there, Ango? Battering ram back there coulda given Jess a run for her title.” Taako asks conversationally as he jabs a thumb back, pointing.

            “Yes, but-”

            “Cool.”

            “Sir-”

            “So let’s go.”

            “Sir, you said-”

            “I know what I said.” Taako cuts him off, suddenly more serious.

            And Angus is overcome with something he doesn’t feel terribly often: confusion. “Why?”

            And that seems to throw Taako off for some reason. “Um, well…” Taako hums, thinking. Or delaying. “Listen. She kinda, kinda caught me by surprise with that whole thing, but… why not? You know, uh, listen, you basically live with me and Krav. As far as I can tell you either have shit parents or no parents, which I can tell you: both suck in different ways. I teach you magic and shit.” Taako glances back to him before looking away again, ears twitching. “Unless, uh, unless you don’t want-”

            Angus stares at Taako, who determinedly avoids eye contact as he continues rambling. “Sir.” Angus interrupts, and Taako stops mid-word. He seems like a barely contained whirlwind, all frantic energy ready to blow everywhere at once. “What else do we need to find before we go home?”

            There’s a pause long enough for three loud heartbeats in Angus’s ears. Taako slowly smiles, tension easing and tornado dissipating. “I thought boy detectives had to be good at remembering shit? Okay, we got-”

            Angus and Taako continue on with shopping, gradually making their way home.

            Later, Angus discovers that not being asked nosy questions extends to the family of the Birds, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	9. Dogs on the Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is Magnus and Lucretia family post-canon! There's definitely some angst running through it because they talk about Julia, and this one involves character death, but I would say it ends happy.

            Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time, Magnus Burnsides watches as the false moon, Lucretia’s moon, approaches from his place inside the glass sphere. His pupils go wide as the sphere enters the moon, trying to see anything in the darkness of the space. Of course he doesn’t, one of two members (previously just him) of Tres Horny Boys without Darkvision.

            As such, he’s blinking spots out of his eyes when the sphere emerges in the bright light of the hangar, and Magnus’s gaze alights on Avi, operating the cannons as per usual and looking surprised to see him.

            Magnus is up and walking as soon as the sphere door opens.

            “Hey, hey, Magnus, how are-” Avi starts as Magnus passes by him.

            “Can’t talk now, Avi,” Magnus interrupts, jokingly brusque. “Important world-saving business, you know how it is. Weight lifting later though?” Magnus tosses the words lightly over his shoulder, already gone.

            “Uh, yeah, hey, wait, where are you going?” Avi calls after him, but Magnus doesn’t answer and Avi doesn’t follow after.

            He marches across the quad, hearing the summer breeze whistle through the trees and watching it sweep over the grassy field in waves. He high fives Killian and trades finger guns with Carey, wishing the couple congratulations (again) on their upcoming nuptials. But he doesn’t linger. He has somewhere to be. Obviously. That’s the whole reason he’s here.

            Magnus continues on into the largest, grandest dome in the Bureau of Benevolence and doesn’t break his stride as the sound of his footsteps shifts from the muted trod against earth to the faintly echoing click of boots against marble.

            Lucretia isn’t on the dais, not that he’d expect her to be. That’s not surprising.

            Magnus makes it to the door at the end of the hall and walks to her office. No, unsurprisingly, Lucretia is working, as per usual. Or, she is, right up until Magnus gets to her office door and does what Magnus does best. Magnus rushes in.

            “Lucretia Adventurezone,” Magnus booms, and the woman in question looks up from her desk, eyebrows already rising to nearly her hairline.

            “Magnus. What. What was that?” She asks, completely nonplussed.

            “It’s fine. I just needed a last name. Uh, don’t worry about it,” Magnus says, waving off the unknowable reference. “Anyway. What isn’t fine, Lucretia, is the state of dogs on the moon!” Magnus levels an accusatory glare at Lucretia.

            As expected, she doesn’t shrink, meeting Magnus’s eyes with a level stare of her own. “Magnus. Dogs run off the moon. I have explained this to you countless times.”

            “Two hundred twenty-five by my count, actually,” Magnus rebuts, thoroughly pulling a number out of the air, and Lucretia’s face breaks into a smile. “You have argued against fences. You have argued against leashes. You have argued against automated dog catching systems.” He counts off the arguments on his fingers. “ _But_ ,” he says dramatically, raising a finger, “you have forgotten one important thing. And that thing, Lucretia, is domes.”

            “I’m pretty sure I haven’t forgotten domes, Mango.” And Lucretia gestures to the moon base at large around her.

            “Lucretia. You are the most powerful abjuration wizard this or literally any other plane has ever seen. A god for gods told you that you did the most powerful shit he had ever seen.”

            “Yes?”

            Magnus nearly sputters at Lucretia’s nonchalance. “You could have just cast a spell on the moon base the whole time! No real fences, just a big magic fence!”

            Lucretia blinks. “Oh. Huh.”

            “Now hold on!” Magnus exclaims. “‘ _Huh_?’ You never thought about it, not once, despite knowing that you are, like, a super good wizard and at no point had you been walking around with less than one-seventh of the Light of Creation. For years, Lucy!”

            “Well… Listen. Magnus. I was preoccupied.  _Very_  preoccupied.”

            “But  _dogs_ , Lucretia!” Magnus nearly whines. “Think of the puppies left in a box! Think of the mutts who need a home! Think of the dogs!”

            Lucretia doesn’t say anything, just looks like she’s thinking. Magnus deflates a little. “Uh, anyway. You are also formally invited to the grand opening or sort of re-opening of Hammer and Tails. When I open it. At some point. You know, re-building an entire town and a carpentry shop and a school for dogs is not easy.” He emphasizes. “And, uh, you know, still keeping up with those Tres Horny Boys adventures. We went to a casino with Lup, and Merle cast fucking Insect Plague, and then we kicked Greg fucking Grimaldis’s fucking ass, but Lup didn’t get her $15 anyway, and we got into another battlewagon race, so Taako got another trophy for that, and I still need a battlewagon trophy because I have vehicle proficiency, and Cap’nport, oh Lucy, he doesn’t need money, he wanted help fighting ghost pirates, but don’t worry about it, and I drove the ship and Taako adopted a Kraken and all the Reapers showed up, lots of family bonding and shit.” Magnus continues rambling about some of their various adventures and branches into the wedding preparations for Carey and Killian.

            As he talks, Lucretia sweeps all of her work to the side and pulls a fresh sheet of paper toward her, starting to quickly scribble something down.

            “And then Carey was, like, I don’t know if I like chocolate or spice cake better! So I told her, just talk to Taako and Lup about doing both! Great plan, right, Lucretia? Lucretia?” Magnus asks again, half-concerned that Lucretia has opted to not listen to his rather extensive rambling.

            Lucretia looks up. “Uh, duh. Of course, Magnus. More cakes are better. And. Um. I have something for you. Call it… call it a Candlenights gift. A little late for sure, but-“ she passes over the piece of paper.

            Magnus looks down at the paper Lucretia had quickly filled with blue ink. “COUPON,” it reads in all caps across the top. “One dog on the moon, whenever user wants. Coupon limited to one Magnus Burnsides. Director Lucretia not responsible for providing dog leash or harness. Fence negotiable. Expiry: never.” Below the text there is a quick illustration of a cartoonish Magnus with a very happy dog in a baby bjorn.

            Magnus looks back to Lucretia. She looks. A little anxious, surprisingly. “Lucy.”

            “Oh, shit, bad idea? I thought with your history of back rub coupons, it’d be funny, but, uh, maybe not the best joke?”

            Magnus initially doesn’t answer, just walks around the desk and tugs Lucretia up into a hug. “Best moon boss Candlenights gift ever,” he says, a little watery, because Magnus Burnsides isn’t afraid to admit that he can cry. “Better than two hundred gold pieces in an envelope.”

            Lucretia laughs too, and there’s a small hiccup before she answers. “Not my finest moment, yes.”

            It’s quiet briefly before there’s a small yipping sound from Magnus’s bag, the sound of a puppy just waking up. Magnus steps back, and Lucretia is smiling as he goes to the bag.

            “So, will you be redeeming that first coupon now then?”

            “Uh… probably. But. Lucretia. Meet Johann,” Magnus says, proudly, raising a tiny deerhound puppy, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes. Johann yawns. Lucretia reaches out her arms, and Magnus gives her first the coupon and then the puppy.

            “All right. I guess we do have dogs on the moon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> And hoo boy, it's been a hot second since I updated this one. I mean, it was meant to be a low stress way for me to just add smaller pieces I wrote on the fly, but now I have an actual backlog of like four again. I need to write Merle at some point.
> 
> I'll do a general status update in a second! Youknowdotjpeg.
> 
> As always, kudos, comment, bookmark, subscribe, badger me into writing at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com).


	10. A Day Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some comparatively fluffy Blupjeans post-Story and Song. Lup is tired, and Barry is convincing her she needs a day off. Some Taakitz in the background.

            After a particularly long day full of the complications of unethical necromancy and even more complicated paperwork, Lup tears a rift from the Astral Plane straight into her bedroom, right after having shoved the neverending pile of documents and forms to the corner of her desk. How is fighting a demilich less tiring than paperwork about your garden variety necromancer? She spares a moment to wonder, flopping face first onto the bed. It’s soft, and comfortable, and Lup sinks into it wholly with a sigh, even her ears dropping.

            Some minutes later, presumably because Barry stuck around to pick up the scattered papers Lup had sent flying when she’d pushed the pile away, there are footsteps on the staircase up to their room, presumably because Barry had popped into their foyer, where he could hang up his Reaper cloak. Lup thinks she should probably get rid of her own, but that would require moving. Or concentrating enough for a spell. Neither of which she cares to do just now.

            The bedroom door opens. “Nerd alert,” Barry calls as he enters, laughter clear in his voice.

            “Yeah, you’re a hot nerd though,” Lup replies, voice muffled by the blankets.

            “I was talking about you.”

            Lup laughs, before groaning. “Babe. I forgot. I forgot how fucking exhausting living is.”

            “I mean. We’re technically undead.” Barry offers helpfully.

            Lup rolls over, looking balefully up at the foremost necromancer in this -or really any- plane. He smiles down at her, and Lup is struck by just how hopelessly in love he looks. Just as he looked at the Legato conservatory. Just as Lup feels every moment of every day. Her heart, and it’s still an adjustment to think those words after twelve years without a physical one and eleven without Taako, picks up its pace. Lup ignores it.

            “Barry. Babe. Light of my lives and undeath.” She says as Barry sits down next to her. “I… I mean it? I think… I think I really did forget.”

            Barry looks at her, considering. “We should take tomorrow off.”

            “Huh?” Lup bolts upright to sitting, ears flying up with her as she stares at her husband. “What? No. I’m just… you know. Complaining. As you do.”

            “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.”

            “But…” Lup hesitates. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. And really, it seems selfish to just take a day off when they’re both still new on the job and Ghost Rider had really stuck his neck -now with actual pulse!- out for them to begin with.

            “Hey, uh, Kravitz? Bossman?” Barry has pulled out his Stone of Farspeech.

            “Barry? And don’t call me that.” Kravitz sounds surprised to be hearing from Barry so soon after them leaving. Granted, he must have left, too, because-

            “Oh shit, is that Barold and Lulu?” Lup’s ears perk up as she hears a familiar voice, and her heart leaps in joy. Kinda hard to turn off that response after all the shit the twins have been through.

            “Yes, it’s-“

            “How are my favorite death criminals turned death police?” Taako talks over his boyfriend to greet his family.

            “Yeah, we’re good, Koko. Just ask your boyfriend how good at death bureaucracy we are.”

            “I thought I was your favorite death police.” Kravitz sounds almost offended.

            “Were you a death criminal first, my man?”

            Barry coughs, interrupting the banter. “Hey, Kravitz? Any way we could, uhhhhh, take the day off tomorrow?”

            “Or is this a, uh, consult Bird Mom thing?” Lup asks as well.

            “Oh, uh, I mean, just let her know, but she shouldn’t, I can’t imagine she’d mind. And please don’t call her Bird Mom. It’s fucking weird.”

            “Listen, she said she was cool with it.” Lup shoots back, smiling.

            “Hey, Krav. Hey, Krav. Does this mean you can take tomorrow off too? I’ll fuckin’ ask Bird Mom myself.”

            “Oh not you, too-“

            “Bye, Kravitz, bye, Taako,” Barry interrupts again. Lup’s gonna have to tease Taako for it later, finally get revenge for all the comments about 47 years.

            “See ya, Ghost Rider. Love ya, bro bro.”

            “Goodbye, Lup, Barry.”

            “Night, Barold. Night, Lulu.”

            Barry ends the call. “So.”

            “Babe, I really don’t need to.” Lup cuts him off, not wanting to get into that whole alive/dead/in an umbrella discussion right now.

            “What if I want to though?” Barry asks suddenly and surprisingly soft. “What if I just want to take a day off with my beautiful wife?” Lup blushes to the tips of her ears and curses her returned physical reactions. But only jokingly. She went without them long enough. Too long. There’s a lot she went too long without.

            Lup leans in to kiss her husband, who is more than happy to kiss her back. And this? This is something Lup is fucking ecstatic to return to.

            When they separate, they don’t let go, and Lup is smiling so much that her face hurts. Which is most definitely a strange thing to miss, but also not strange in the least.

            And then Lup’s stomach growls. Fuck. That might have something to do with the exhaustion. Lup thinks back through the day; had she eaten while Barry had been out?

            …Nope!

            Yeah, that definitely explains a lot.

            And listen, Lup has been trying to return to the land of the living fully, and you’d think a chef would remember to eat, but, “Listen, babe, sometimes these things just slip your mind, you know?” She shrugs, grinning winningly at her husband.

            Barry shakes his head. “Still gotta fix it.”

            “But I don’t wanna move,” Lup whines, blatantly ignoring the fact that she’s long since sat up from her earlier sprawl across the bed.

            “I can fix that.” Barry says, smoothly standing before scooping up his wife. Lup gasps, surprise half real, before winding her arms around his neck.

            And, really, Barry’s valiant effort is successful; they only almost wipe out once when he steps on her cloak on their way down the stairs. Lup is laughing the whole way.

            Barry carefully sets her on one of the bar stools, and Lup leans back, watching Barry walk into the kitchen. As sure as he is in a lab or a necromantic den in a cave (his own or otherwise), Barry looks just a touch flustered now. Which is admittedly much better than the first few cycles, when either she or Taako had chased him out before he could set boiling water on fire.

            To be fair, Lup can do that, too, but with her, it’d be intentional.

            Barry sets to work, pulling out a bowl, a frying pan, Brioche bread, eggs, cream (with a guilty look at Lup), cinnamon, and a bottle of… almond extract? Barry, however, seems to have learned from the disaster of Cycle 12, and after a quick sniff and a start, returns the almond extract to the shelf and comes back with vanilla. Lup grins.

            “Great job, babe, but, uh, I’m gonna take it from here.” She jumps off her seat gracefully, leaving the heavy cloak behind, already rolling up her sleeves.

            “Oh thank Bird Mom,” Barry sighs, backing up to let the master to her work. Lup kisses him again as she walks by, because she wants to, and she can.

            Maybe a day off is just what she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


	11. Scones and Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Taakitz, all fluff, from Kravitz's POV, post Story and Song (and the earlier chapter Takeout in the Astral Plane for that matter)

            Kravitz’s heart was scarcely beating in his chest again before he could hardly call it his own. Kravitz’s heart belongs to Taako, and he had handed it over willingly to a former bounty who threatened to tentacle his dick and the most beautiful elf Kravitz has ever seen in his centuries long life.

            Said most beautiful elf that Kravitz has ever seen is currently baking in their kitchen, judging by the smells that have drifted to the vestibule where Kravitz stands, closing the front door behind him, having just returned from working. Kravitz takes a moment to inhale, relishing the scents of baked goods, before striding forward to the doorway of the kitchen.

            As expected, Taako is baking, assisted by an armada of Mage Hands and wearing an outfit only Taako could pull off. He’s wearing a red IPRE shirt likely stolen (possibly stolen back) from Lup and shorts with the word “chef” bedazzled across the butt. His hair is up in the world’s most precariously situated bun, and his socks don’t match. Still beautiful of course, especially to Kravitz’s entirely unbiased mind. Kravitz steps further into the kitchen, still watching as Taako works. Taako is moving gracefully, still unconsciously leaving room for Lup, almost dancing to the symphony of sounds in the kitchen: the bubbling of the water in the double boiler for the chocolate, the whirring sound of egg whites being magically whipped far faster than by hand, the quick rhythmic bangs of the macaron trays against the counter. Kravitz feels his heart almost singing along with the music, and a smile spreads across his face.

            Kravitz doesn’t start actually singing aloud, but he does hum. That’s something else that’s come back since Taako and since actually living past death again; Kravitz has begun composing again. And now he soars along a melody inspired by Taako himself, as carefully crafted in recent weeks as one of Taako’s spells or dishes.

            “Hey, babe,” Taako calls over his shoulder in greeting, still focused intently on piping creme patissiere into the profiteroles for the croquembouche. “Win any souls for Bird Mama in a game of Go Fish today?”

            “It was Uno,” Kravitz retorts, stopping the humming. “Go Fish was when I won Lup and Barry doing my paperwork for a month.”

            “My mistake, my mistake.” Taako sticks out his tongue the smallest bit as he concentrates, Kravitz notes as he leans against the counter. “Say, uh, what… what exactly were you humming? You’ve done that a couple times, lately.”

            “Oh? Uh, well, I told you I had wanted to be a composer… I started composing again.”

            Taako finishes the seemingly infinite pile of profiteroles and sets down the piping bag, turning to face Kravitz. There’s a stripe of chocolate under one eye, and a piece of hair has fallen in his face. Taako bats at it impatiently. “So, you wrote that one?”

            “Yes.” And Kravitz leans forward to tuck the hair behind Taako’s ear, which twitches at the soft touch. Taako reaches up to touch his forearm, and Kravitz lowers his hand, shifting to hold Taako’s.

            Taako’s song again swells up in Kravitz’s mind, and, impulsively, Kravitz tugs Taako in closer, putting his other hand around Taako’s waist, again humming, spinning away from the oven.

            “Krav- rabbit- babe- Kravitz, the SCONES!” Taako protests even as he puts his other hand on Kravitz’s shoulder and begins to follow the dance Kravitz has started.

            “How long until those need to come out of the oven?”

            “…Six minutes.” Kravitz raises an eyebrow and resumes humming as the pair dance across their kitchen floor.

            After a few minutes, Kravitz pauses, though the music continues on in his mind. “I wrote it for you.”

            “Oh.” Taako says as he drops Kravitz’s hand to put both hands around Kravitz’s neck, pulling him in. Kravitz obliges, putting his other hand around Taako’s waist.

            “…Do you like it?” It’s less dancing and more swaying now, but that’s certainly not a bad thing.

            Taako snorts. “You’re kidding, right? Of course I love it, babe.” Kravitz’s smile widens, and he resumes, leaning in to press a kiss to Taako’s forehead. And they stay like that, comfortable and content.

            And they likely would have stayed like that a lot longer, had the egg timer not sounded, the silver egg cracking open to unleash a chirping silver dragon.

            Taako’s eyes fly open.

            “Kravitz, the SCONES!” He yells again, nearly shrieking, pulling himself out of Kravitz’s arms to fly across the room to the oven, scarcely even taking the time to grab an oven mitt before opening the oven.

            The cinnamon scones are perfect, of course. Taako made them.

            So the scones are set to cool on the counter, the timer is silenced and reset, and the first round of macarons are placed in the oven. Taako takes a step back, clearly pleased.

            Kravitz chuckles and says, “Careful now, or Angus might think you care.” Of course Angus will think that- Taako  _does_  care.

            Taako goes faintly pink, but he scoffs, “Listen. Birthdays are a big fuckin’ deal in this household.” And Kravitz does know that one from experience. When Taako learned Kravitz doesn’t remember his birthday, let alone the last time he’d celebrated it, Taako had planned for a party that had lasted a week.

            “Mmhmm.” Kravitz nods, again mesmerized by how fluidly Taako moves through the kitchen, how skillfully he balances seemingly a dozen different dishes and a dozen different tasks at once.

            Taako’s right; birthdays are a surprisingly big deal in this family (or perhaps that’s just a reminder of how long Kravitz had been removed from the world of the living before now). But it’s more than that. More than birthdays, more than silverware or jokes and a hug or a diploma, more than even honesty on a first date or at the end of the world, it’s  _Taako_. Taako, who had for so long tried not to care, who had lost so much of his heart for so long. Despite all that, Taako had cared and cares so much that it makes Kravitz’s heart stumble to know that he has Taako’s heart just as much as Taako has his.

            Despite his attention on the glaze for the rapidly cooling scones, Taako seems to sense Kravitz’s thoughts. “I… I love you, you know.” Taako’s voice is soft.

            “Yes. Yes, I do, and I love you.”

            “Save that one for the wedding, babe.” They both freeze. “I mean…” Taako trails off, turning slowly to face him.

            “Taako,” Kravitz says, and it sounds half-strangled.

            “Listen, I, uh- I- I… I got nothing. Kravitz, Krav, babe, you, uh… will you marry me?”

            “Were you intending to propose soon?”

            “ _Fuck_ , Krav, that’s not an answer, but no, I mean, I kinda thought… babe, we said I love you during the apocalypse; it seemed inevitable. And you still haven’t answered.”

            “Yes.” His own answer seems to knock the breath from Kravitz’s lungs. “Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you, Taako.”

            The world begins spinning again. Taako slumps in relief. So does Kravitz for that matter. He takes a long breath in, and relief slows his frantic heartbeat. And then Taako is kissing him.

            Eventually, Taako pulls back. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool… We have to plan a wedding now.” And Kravitz’s heart rate picks up again, but he knows that he and his  _fiancé_  are more than equal to the challenge.

            Taako starts baking again and Kravitz helps where he can and distracts when he cannot. The rest of the night is filled with baking and music, laughing and dancing, celebration and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Okay, a quick rundown:  
> This fic will be a compilation of short scenes focusing on the bonds between different characters.  
> The goal is to get these in close to chronological order (I will likely not write them in chronological order, which may complicate things!).  
> The first nine are already written and have been posted to my tumblr for varying amounts of time (they're shorter, so they haven't been on ao3 before now).  
> I'm going to try to make it easy to find which chapter is the new one if you do happen to bookmark/subscribe, but that part is very much a work in progress.  
> Each chapter will be prefaced with an explanation as to the who and what and when and so on.  
> If you're interested in specific characters in a specific scene I haven't yet explored, feel free to drop me a line (I'd prefer on tumblr just because it'll be a little bit easier for me to track but whatever floats your boat).
> 
> As always, kudos and comment on all the fics you like, and hit me up at [charmandhex](https://charmandhex.tumblr.com)!


End file.
